Parody of “The Dolls”, words and music by
Eva Van Daele-Hunt
and
Crystal Blum (translator)
For
more information
and other parodies, see
www.songworm.com
Parody lyrics ©2023-12-10 by Bob Kanefsky. All rights reserved. The copyright of the original lyrics and music remain with the holder(s) of the original copyright.
This song, much like the source materials (“The Dolls” and “The Murderous Toy” parody of “The Marvelous Toy”) is decidedly not family friendly. The specific families it’s unfriendly to are the same as one of the source songs: Felidae, Canidae, Hominidae, and Psittacidae.
I’ll tell you the tale of a murderous toy,
Just a gift that a seven or eight year old lad
Received from his dad in top-secret employ.
It’s the coolest of toys from the hottest of labs.
There once was a small boy in Livermore town.
With a brother and sister, at least at the time.
Whose dad had invented or stolen or found
A box with bright buttons for combat or crime
Its eye was a laser, its mouth lined with knives.
On the front, a small napalm-filled hose was its hand.
Its wheel was a buzz saw that nothing survives.
When the boy switched it on, things did not go as planned.
Its guns aimed at women, at men and at house pets.
At children, wherever attention was drawn.
With buttons of green, purple, blue, pink, and russet.
And a big one, bright red, was to turn the thing on.
Its program saw people as targets for striking,
Not as minds who might be friend or foe.
It went around shooting at puppies for fun,
One curious cat was mowed down by its gun.
The parakeet? Killed in one blow.
The boy tried in vain to control it or stop it,
With colorful buttons between blinking lights,
The toy carried on — it was nobody’s poppet —
With no way of fathoming laws, wrong, or right.
It seemed self-aware of the death it engendered.
It sliced and it diced like a late TV ad.
It chimed and it cheated, disarmed and dismembered,
It’s the coolest of toys from the hottest of labs.
***
His sister drew fire, made it well past the yard,
The neighbors behind her all died.
The eyesore they lived in at last was demolished
Trees became splinters, the sidewalk was polished —
And the toy had not yet stepped outside
The boy told his mother, “The toy’s become sentient,
Moving all by itself toward a crowd.
It takes great delight killing anything weaker
And last time it did, I heard sounds from its speaker
Suddenly laughing out loud.
It went zap when it fired and it cursed when it missed.
And drywall and brick were too frail to resist.
Trauma and injury, death and destruction,
The town full of terror took shelter in place.
Its learning chip needed no further instruction.
It grew more efficient. It stepped up the pace.
The smoke from the fires grew worse the next morning,
And he was the cause although nobody knew.
Just once, as they cowered, he whispered a warning:
Mother, the toy, it is aiming at you
It went zap when it fired and it cursed when it missed.
And grandma and grandpa were next on the list.
He sheltered for days but emerged only finding
The bittersweet tear gas, the flames from a cab.
With nuclear fuel, it did not need rewinding.
It’s the coolest of toys from the hottest of labs.
They found the inventor downstairs in his home
And near a destroyed overpass,
One hand clutching half-melted keys in his car,
One foot out the door but he hadn’t got far,
And a cellphone with shattered screen glass.
It went zap when it fired and it cursed when it missed
And somehow his son’s ever since reminisced.
The toy left a wake of complete devastation,
With its whereabouts classified, maybe unknown.
Forgotten and lost for a whole generation.
But the child’s own son now wants one of his own.